


Ravenous

by Nicxan



Category: Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark (2019)
Genre: Abuse, Gen, No Supper Abuse, Starvation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:53:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25692364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicxan/pseuds/Nicxan
Summary: Sarah had stepped out of line -- and her family punished her severely for it.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10
Collections: Banned Together Bingo 2020





	Ravenous

**Author's Note:**

> [Banned Together Bingo](https://bannedtogetherbingo2020.tumblr.com/)! Wow, it's been a while since I've typed that.  
> The prompt for this was 'No Supper Abuse'. 
> 
> Poor Sarah. I want to adopt her.

Sarah hadn’t properly eaten for four days.    
  
Sure, her family had given her water. They’d given her the bare bones to survive, but it was like they had simply forgotten about her. Sarah stayed locked in the basement, stomach growling so loudly that she was sure anyone could hear -- but no one ever came. Of course, she heard their heavy boots and dainty heels stomping about upstairs. She always did.    
  
For these past two nights, she prayed that they would show a shred of mercy. This wasn’t the first time she had gone without food for so long, but it only got worse and worse every time. She was ravenous. Starving. Desperate. So desperate.    
  
Sarah couldn’t even find solace in writing during these times. Losing too much blood made her feel woozy, and her hands shook too much to be of use. Tears would always stain the empty pages, ruining them. She was too dizzy to talk properly, either; when kids came by for stories, she had to ignore them.    
  
Why were they doing this? What had she done wrong? When she asked, they only laughed. All Sarah could do was speculate.    
  
Maybe it was the fact that she just glanced at the door. Maybe it was the fact that someone else had died due to the mill, and she dared to whisper about the possibilities to a lone child. Maybe, maybe, maybe ... in the end, the reason didn’t matter. If she behaved, she would be allowed to eat eventually.    
  
So, Sarah stopped begging. She stopped pleading. She grew completely silent, only mumbling a compliant, docile ‘thank you’ as her family tossed her partially molded bread and a cup of water. It didn’t do much good at first, but Sarah knew it would take time for them to give up on tormenting her. Once she stopped begging, they found it not as fun.    
  
But the time would drag on forever. The hours passed in agony, even as she reread the stories she had already written in her chair. When she dared to imagine new, wonderful stories, they all turned back to an ever-hungry protagonist, ravenously devouring those who wronged them.    
  
The idea comforted her. If only she could make that happen ... make her family starve the way they starved her, make them fearful like she had been fearful. Make them beg the way she had been begging. Sarah’s eyes darkened as she imagined the beautiful scene of her father pleading for his life at the insatiable beast that towered over him. The beast was powerful. He was not.    
  
If only ...    
  
“Sarah!” her mother barked. Sarah snapped out of her dream-like trance and looked over from her chair. “You can have leftovers from dinner tonight. But not one more word about the mill or you’re back to the bread. This is the only time we’re going to warn you. Is that clear?”   
  
So that had been it.    
  
“Yes, mother,” Sarah said weakly.   
  
The door was unlocked. Sarah barely got a glimpse of her mother as she dropped the tray full of pulled-apart chicken and what she presumed to be cold mashed potatoes. Some water was set aside, too. She then locked the door without another word. Sarah could hear her heels hit the stone as she went back up the stairs.    
  
Sarah was ashamed to admit it, but she moved as fast as she could to the food. She almost collapsed out of her chair, and while it hurt to fall against the stone, the sight of actual food spurred her on and made her ignore the twinge in her knees. She crawled over towards the tray, and once she got there, she tore into it with fervor. The chicken was cold and unseasoned, but she didn’t care. The mashed potatoes were hard, but they weren't moldy.    
  
Sarah felt tears stain her cheeks as she continued to devour the scraps she had mercifully been given. By the time the food was gone, it had turned into full-on sobbing.    
  
If only she could get away.    
  
If only she could be free. 


End file.
